


A Friend Indeed

by SuperVi



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Strike's POV, early relationship development, references to The Silkworm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperVi/pseuds/SuperVi
Summary: In the early stages of Strike and Robin's romantic relationship, Robin makes a startling discovery.





	A Friend Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> My tenth work in this fandom! It's almost like an anniversary:)

It occurred to Strike as he opened the door to his flat that it had been a while since he’d last come home to find Robin lounging on the sofa in what passed for his living room - which was a sight that greeted him now. At some point in the past few months she’d picked up his habit of setting up camp in the bed instead, and if for one reason or another she had to wait up for him late into the night, that’s where she would do so, reading or working on her laptop.

She was reading now, too, something that did not look like particularly light reading. She looked up from her book and smiled at him.

“Hi,” she said.

It was eleven o’clock. Her face was already free of make-up and she was wearing pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He could not be entirely certain, but he thought she might not be wearing a bra underneath it. This was ready-for-bed Robin, staying-the-night Robin. One of his favorite Robins, for sure.

Too knackered to take off his coat just yet, he covered the few steps that separated him from the sofa.

“Hi,” he said against her lips, their taste pleasantly familiar.

There was a lot to be said for quiet and solitude at the end of a long and tiring day like this one, and he knew some people (most of them women) would find it hard to believe that he did not value those comforts above all else. But did they truly outweigh this, here, now? These days, he had to wonder. Comfort came in different flavors, after all.

“A day in the life of a private eye,” Robin said with a grin when they broke apart.

“Yeah.” He plonked himself down on the sofa next to her. “Sorry. I should’ve just called tonight off, but I couldn’t really turn the phone on, and when I finally could, it was just too late for you to go home anyway.”

“It’s okay. This is riveting.” She tapped her nails on the cover of the book and he glanced down to see the title of a famously dull textbook on offender profiling. “I actually spent most of the evening clocking in overtime downstairs.”

“Yeah?” His hand had found its way to her leg, over the soft cotton fabric.

“I think we need to start archiving some of the older stuff out of the office. We’ll get swamped in paper otherwise.”

“We’ll think about it.” Not now, though. Now, all he wanted was bed, perhaps preceded by a bit of sustenance.

“Speaking of paper. Do you know what I found when I was going through some of that older stuff in your office?”

It was the studiously neutral tone of her voice rather than the words themselves that put him on instant alert. He looked closely at her face. He didn’t have the faintest idea what she might have found, but whatever it was, she didn’t think he’d like it. Or maybe she didn’t think _she_ was going to like what he had to say about it.

Or both.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know… but there was nothing for it. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Robin flipped through the pages of her book, retrieved a folded piece of paper that she’d tucked in there and handed it to him. With much regret, his hand abandoned the warmth of her thigh and he took the piece of paper and unfolded it. As soon as he saw the logo on top, he knew.

Still, she explained unnecessarily:

“It’s a penalty fee. For the Land Cruiser. Back when we went to see Daniel Chard in Devon and I almost missed the funeral.”

“Yeah.” He was so stupid, or maybe just too tired. The sofa should have been a dead giveaway. “I’ve forgotten about it.” Not a lie, really.

“You never said there was anything other than the regular invoice,” Robin said, still in that faux-normal voice.

He was quiet for a few seconds.

“Well, it’s probably too late to do anything about it at this point, but I guess we can find out if we should still file it in our financial records.”

Robin sighed.

“Cormoran,” she said quietly. The corners of her mouth turned downwards. No more pretending, then.

He wished he could just go to bed. He wished he’d fed the bloody invoice to the shredder. He wished she were just a bit less neat and tidy. But in the end, this was Robin. A little nervous, a little upset. A rather tangential thought entered his mind that he’d been right and she really was not wearing a bra.

Slowly, he put the invoice aside.

“Fine,” he started. “I really have forgotten about it by now, but yeah, that’s not the reason I kept it from you in the first place. The truth is I was just never going to show it to you. I didn’t want you to find out because I knew you’d blame yourself. Okay?”

“That’s a lot of money, Cormoran.”

He shrugged.

“It was my fault you…” she began, but he held up his hand.

“It was no one’s fault.”

“There was certainly cause and effect,” she argued.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to insist on paying me back after all this time.”

Robin pursed her lips, but his face must have shown exactly what he thought of that idea, for finally she cracked a long-suffering smile.

“I suppose I know my limits. Or yours. It’s just… ” She sighed again. “I look back sometimes and I don’t… Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like discovering all those things and… and how far back they go.” She gave a self-conscious laugh, blushing slightly. By things, he supposed, she meant those things he’d thought and hadn’t said, had wanted but had never done. How he’d always liked the curve of her hip. How he’d let go of a well-playing client just because the guy didn’t treat her well enough. She knew a lot of it now. “It’s nice… and exciting. It makes me happy. Usually. But sometimes…”

“Sometimes it makes you confused.”

She looked at him sharply.

“You know?”

“I’m not completely blind.”

 _And here I was, convinced that me being a woman meant little more to you than having to keep me safe after dark_ , she’d said the first time they lay together under the slanted ceiling of his bedroom. Her fingers had been playing with the hair on his chest and she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, but he knew better. Of course he did - hadn’t he done everything in his power to make her believe that lie?

He’d turned her on her back then and kissed her, deep and long, to show her just how very wrong she’d been. He didn’t think a kiss was what she wanted - or needed - now.

But he didn’t know what else he could do. He could not honestly say he regretted his secretiveness, and he was not going to lie.

“Sometimes,” Robin continued, “I look back and I think - what a horrible loss of time. And other times, it all makes me reconsider so much. Our work partnership. My marriage.” She paused, then added bravely: “Your relationships.”

Oh, she knew a lot, but still not half of it.

“So when I found this now… I don’t know, I suppose I just wish you’d told me. At least it’d be simpler now, you know?”

He took her hand in his and tried to gather his thoughts.

“Look. There’s nothing sinister about it. What would it have changed if I had told you? Would you have paid it back from the pittance you earned here? Would you have asked Matthew for the money? Or would you have let it go but felt guilty for weeks afterwards? You may not believe me, but I don’t blame you for the fee. I helped you catch that train because I wanted to. Because that’s what you needed me to do. And… a friend in need, right?”

In silence, she studied his face, his eyes, and he let her, and didn’t try to look away.

“A friend in need,” she finally repeated, nodding thoughtfully, and at last, her face lit up with a real, glowing smile.

And then the woman whose lacy bra was probably hanging on his shower rod right now squeezed his hand gently before letting it go, patted him on the knee, and ruffled his hair as she stood up, all in a most avuncular manner.

“Tea,” she said firmly. “Tea and food. I think I might eat, too. And then straight to bed.”

He was still in his coat. He was too hot, and hungry, and his leg was begging to be unstrapped.

But he didn’t get up. Instead, he closed his eyes, rested his head against the backrest of the sofa, and listened to the comforting sound of Robin’s cheerful humming.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by The Silkworm, Chapter 35:  
> “Spent way too much on taxis lately,” he told Robin gruffly, unwilling to tell her how much it hadcost him to take care of the Toyota Land Cruiser with which he had been stranded on Friday night.


End file.
